Curiosity Infatuated the Cat
by Diedre D'Nai
Summary: Lethe wasn't a big fan of beorc. But then again, Lethe wasn't a big fan of much. However, a gift from Zihark and questions emerge, in her attempt to answer them, will Lethe open up? Lethe/Zihark, short chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Lethe was taking a cat-nap. She had located a sunny, grassy glade a short ways off from the camp, curled up, and gone straight to sleep. It was unsual for her, to let her guard down like this. She could smell the sun radiating off of the grass, its warm earthy scent enclosing her. Lethe took a deep breath and streched out on her stomach before curling up into a ball.  
"How *yawn* nice." she muttered, drifting happily into sleep. It was dangerous... but she hadn't smelt any enemies and needed the rest...and a chance to escape from those damnable beorc.

Okay...so she wasn't using the word "human" any more. She didn't carry off her plate and eat away from them any more... yes...she had spoken with that "Jill" person...it didn't mean she liked the beorc as a whole. It just meant that she didn't necessarily _hate _all of them either. She had decided that Jill was alright, the commander Ike wasn't a complete waste of her time, and maybe Mist was tolerable in small doses. But she was still a cat. And when one gets to the bottom of it, cats are typically anti-social.

"It's not safe to wander off alone." The voice startled Lethe awake. Her eyes popped open and she leapt back, glowering at the speaker. It wasn't, to her surprise, Ranulf.  
"Not many people can sneak up on a laguz..." she hissed. Zihark chuckled, a sound she didn't find entirely unpleasant. His silver hair blew lightly in the breeze, its color reminding her of a rare flower that grew in Gallia, blooming only in the moonlight. He was leaning against a tree, his poise and the easy-going look on his face impling that he had been there more than just a few minutes.  
"I've had practice." He answered, a smile easily fitting his lips "I came to give you this," he produced a small bag from his pouch. She recognized the scent instantly and fought to keep her voice hostile and angry.  
"How long have you been- Where'd you get that..." she interrupted herself as the delicious smell took hold of her senses, her voice was a little more excited than she would have liked. The swordmaster's eyes twinkled with delight at her reaction. Her tail twitched just a little in anticipation, her violet eyes darting back between his face and the small tanalizing blue bag.  
"That's not important." Zihark said, tossing it to her, Lethe caught it and pulled out a small leafy sprig, "Anyway, I'm heading back, you should probably do the same here in a bit, it isn't safe to be alone." He turned around, waving goodbye as he walked back towards the camp. Leaving Lethe speechless as she watched him leave.

He carried himself with the grace and poise only a swordmaster could manage. Lethe looked down at her little bag, how could he have known? Not many beorc knew about the special plant that was a favorite of cat laguz. Heh, Catnip was the common Beorc term for it. She smiled and inhaled the scent, her mother had always kept a little nearby, it had hung of the crib both she and Lyre slept in.

Questions swarmed in Lethe's brain as she lay back down on the grass.

How could he have known?

How did he sneak up on me? She sighed and took a deep breath, dangling the bag over her face. Watching the blue silk swing back and forth. He had wandered away from everyone with the sole intention of giving her a plant he shouldn't have known about. Lethe rolled over lying on her stomach and inhaling deeply. She thought back, reflexing on how she had met him. Zihark had a strange...trust and love of the laguz. It was unheard of in Beorc. He had left his homeland, where ever that was, to find and help laguz. He had gone out of his way to help her. To save her (not that she needed saving) from the vigilantes in that small Crimean port town. Her eyes lifted, refocusing on his retreating figure. His coat billowed behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

She watched him at dinner that night. He made pleasant conversation with Maurim, laughed and joked with the rest of the table, but he seemed a little distant from everyone. Lethe watched as he ate and then excused himself, wandering back towards his tent. There was something...definately upsetting him, and for some reason, she seemed to care.  
"Something on your mind, Lethe?" Ranulf teased. She looked over at him,  
"Not really Captain."  
"You'd lie to me?" he chuckled, " That's unexpected." She glowered at him and picked up her plate, stomping off. She hoped she looked more angry than concerned, but, damn that Ranulf, he'd know. He always knew.

What was she doing, worrying about some beorc male? It was unlike her to worry in the first place, unless it was over Lyre or Ranulf. But here she was, worrying over a beorc she had known for only a few months. There was something, strange in his behaviors, something comforting in his scent. They fought together, and, incredible as it was, he was as fast as her. He seemed...almost inhuman, and there was nothing wrong with that in her eyes.

But something was bothering him. His eyes betrayed a hint of sorrow, his posture was aloof, lonely and it worried her. She couldn't put her paw on it, this concern, but it was enough that she found herself tracking him after he left the table. Her mind raced, what was it about him? It wasn't that he was hurt...no...so many of the beorc she dealt with struggled with invisible wounds just beginning to scar over. Ike and Mist had lost their father, Titania had lost the man she loved, Soren was...well, who knew what horrors dwelt inside the angry little mage. It was more than that. It was more than wanting to comfort a companion. It was, more than anything, confusing.

Tracking was hard in the camp. Too many different people and animals mingling. Picking out his scent was no easy task, but she had searched for harder prey before. And so she focused her mind and shifted through the different smells, Ike and his mage had wandered past here, Oscar and...either Boyd or a horse...but...damn...where was Zihark? She moved slowly, taking deep inhalations of scent when she caught it. That singular combination of aroma that merged together to form the image of Zihark in her mind. She opened her violet eyes, half-expecting him to be standing in front of her.

Instead of Zihark when she opened her eyes, she noticed that she was standing amidst a bunch of tents. Zihark's scent was strongest in the one to her left. Lethe, being a laguz and therefore caring little to none for Beorc social conventions, simply walked in. The swordsman was sitting on his bed, cleaning his sword with some sort of odd-smelling powder. He looked up, trapping her violet eyes with his own.  
"Lethe." He said with a bit of a smile, "Can I help you with anything?" she noted silently that his voice was a little sad and his eyes a touch melancholy.  
"No." she said keeping her voice surly, "I came to thank you for the gift."  
"You're welcome." The swordmaster smiled. He set his sword on the bed and stood up.

It was the closest they had ever been and for the first time, Lethe felt kind of shy. He was a little bit taller than her and his smell was everywhere.  
"Well...thank you." She stuttered. He nodded,  
"I'm glad you liked it." He said gently, his voice low and...somehow...sad. More than anything else, Lethe felt herself drowning in his scent. It was intoxicating, bidding her to step forward, into him. She fought the instincts, turned on her heel and left, hurrying away before he caught on to the rose tint of her cheeks or the shallowness of her breath.


	3. Chapter 3

She walked back the tent she was sharing with the beorc, Jill. The wyvern rider was cleaning her armor when she noticed the Laguz woman slump down on her cot.  
"Are you alright, Lethe?" Jill asked. Lethe shot her friend a glare and then shook her head,  
"Forgive me. That was unkind." She muttered, lying down on her back and taking the bag that Zihark had given her from her pouch.  
"What's wrong?" The red haired woman asked, she and Lethe had become... not close persay, but they tended to talk to one another. The age old fact that two women, wether they like each other or not, will talk if left alone too long. Lethe let out a sigh.  
"The other wyvren rider...the one in black,"  
"Commander Haar?"  
"Yes. You are in love with him, correct?"  
"Uh...um..." Jill was blushing feveritly, "I...no...he's just...uh...." the beorc took a deep breath and nodded "Maybe...just a little."  
"How do you know?"  
"I worry about him a lot. I wonder how he's doing," Lethe watched with intense curiosity as Jill smile, not at her, but at the very thought of the older man. "When we were apart," she continued, "I spent everyday missing him. It was like...like I had lost some piece of me. I didn't understand it at the time but, when he spoke to me on the bridge...I just knew..."  
"Huh..." Lethe said. She rolled back over, "love seems...complex and messy. Like a waste of time." Jill sat up a little straighter and glowered at the tawny cat across the tent.  
"Don't Laguz fall in love?" Lethe sat up and blinked repeatedly.  
"What kind of question is that? Of course we do. Otherwise how do explain any kittens? Don't you beorc know anything?" She huffed and stomped out of the tent.

"You're doing an awful lot of stomping tonight." Ranulf's voice spoke calmly from the shadows. "What's bothering you?" Lethe whirled around to face her captain and long time friend. He was looking at her with a combination of curiosity, amusement and sadness.  
"Captain Ranulf." She said stiffly. If they had been back home in Gallia and both off duty she would have laughed at how he was sneaking around behind girls' tents. But one didn't tease their Captain like that. At least, not when there was danger of being spotted. Ranulf sighed in response and stretched.  
"Drop the "Captain" Lethe." he said looking at her, "We're not on duty, and I'm not a "Captain" in the Crimean army. Just Ranulf. We're friends." she nodded, and assumed an "at-ease" position. The blue cat sighed and rubbed his eyes.  
"For the love of..." she chuckled and relaxed, smiling just a little. Ranulf beamed.  
"Now that that's out of the way. What's on your mind?" he asked.  
"Nothing." She said, half-snapping. Ranulf brushed aside her tone, "Don't 'nothing' me, Lethe. You've been a sourpuss all day."  
"I'm always like this." she said defensively. Of course he knew. He always knew.

Ranulf took a step towards her and pulled her into a hug.  
"You are not." He said. Lethe struggled slightly before relaxing into the embrace. It was comforting. Ranulf's scent, his warmth, it was all familiar. She could picture being back home in Gallia, in the palace courtyard, talking and eating. Maybe with Lyre and Kyra tagging along, the tiger and cat fighting for Ranulf's attention and shooting Lethe dirty looks at how close she and the captain were.  
"So, what is it?" He asked, releasing her. He dropped to the ground, pulling her with him, sitting in the growing shadow of the tent. Lethe leaned against him, letting him play with her hair.  
"I'm confused." She said after a minute.  
"what about?"  
"I..." she let out an angry sigh, "I have become weak. I fear I may be developing an interest in one of the beorc."  
"What?!" Ranulf said. He pulled away, looking her in the eye, his entire being echoing fear, concern and hurt. "Lethe...you...you know what..."  
"I know...I know." She said angrily, pulling her knees to her chest, "But I can't help it."  
"Who is he?"  
"no." she said, as if she hadn't heard him. "no, this is ridiculous. I am NOT in love with a beorc. I hate beorc. I hate them." she squeezed her eyes shut, "This is wrong."  
"Lethe..." He pulled her close, "It's okay."

A scent distracted her. Zihark, she looked up, and met his eyes, once again filled with sadness and undefinable emotion.  
"Zihark..."


	4. Chapter 4

Their eyes caught, and Lethe felt her heart stop. Zihark gave her a half-hearted smile, and walked right past her.  
"Aren't you going to follow him?" Ranulf asked, letting go of her. Lethe scowled at him.  
"Me? Chase after a Beorc? You're insane." she snarled. But Zihark's scent stuck in her nose. She knew, even at that moment, that she was going to chase after him.  
"No, YOU'RE in love."  
"I...I am not!" she snapped, standing up and brushing the dust from her shorts. She followed him from a bit of a distance, trying to formulate words in her head. An excuse as to why she was following him.

She watched as the swordsman walked into the large tent that served as a meeting hall. She took a deep breath, he wasn't alone.

"I need two people on this." Ike said from inside. "Can anyone find Ranulf? The beast laguz have excellent night-vision." The younger commander said, his voice echoing a certain amount of awe. Lethe took a second breath, and walked inside.  
"I'll go." She looked up at Ike, who was standing between Soren and Zihark. "Its a scouting mission, right?"  
"How long were you there?" Soren said trying to keep his temper under control. He did not take kindly to people, laguz, or eavesdroppers, and Lethe fit all categories at the moment.  
"Not long. I just guessed." She said. Ike put a hand on the sage's arm and nodded.  
"Well, its settled then. Lethe, Zihark, I want you two to head west, see if you can spot a gap in the Daein forces, we want to limit fighting as much as possible before we reach the capital."  
"Yes Sir."

* * *

Awkward silences normally didn't bother Lethe. However, right now the silence seemed to be a living thing threatening to strangle her. Zihark walked beside her, less than a foot away, but so quiet that he seemed miles and miles away.  
"Can you see them?" he asked at last. Lethe nodded.  
"There's a camp nearby...to our left." She said, sniffing the air, "I can smell...maybe 45 troops."  
"Anything else?"  
"Yeah...there are more troops to our..." she paused and looked around. Zihark followed her gaze, confused.  
"What is it?"

The question hung in the air for a moment before it answered itself. An arrow shot through the dark, stabbing Zihark in his left shoulder. The swordmaster drew his blade at the same moment as Lethe shifted. They stood back to back waiting for the Daein troops to reveal themselves.  
"We can't lead them back to camp." the laguz hissed.  
"We need to meet up with everyone at some point though..."  
"No way we're going to kill them all."  
"You'll make it through this." Zihark said softly, "I promise." Lethe turned her head and looked up at him.  
"_We _will make it. We need to get away and then circle back to camp."  
"Agreed."

They split away from each other. Zihark ran a hapless halbeirder through as Lethe leapt onto a knight, knocking him from his steed and ripping open his throat in a deft motion. She engaged another solider, and another after that, completely oblivious to the fire mage sneaking behind her.  
"LETHE!" Zihark shouted, jumping in the way and cutting the mage in half. Lethe spun around just in time to watch as the beorc caught the brunt of the flames.  
"ZIHARK!" Without thinking she sprang forward, "Hold on to me." And obidenently, Zihark climbed on her back and used the last of his strength to hold on as she bounded away into the forest.


End file.
